


Two of Cups (say you'll be back)

by Silverine



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Childhood Friends, F/F, Fate & Destiny, Normal lesbian Romelle lol, Psychic Abilities, Psychic!Allura, Reunions, Tarot, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-13 20:40:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21003839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverine/pseuds/Silverine
Summary: Romelle had a friend at school who had a very special ability: she could see the future and warn people about future events. As impressive as it was, though, that's not what made Allura special in Romelle's eyes. She loved her friend dearly, and their moments together are still her most treasured childhood memories, even though their friendship ended abruptly when Allura suddenly disappeared from her life, leaving her heartbroken.That's why she can't believe her eyes when, a decade later, the rumored tarot reader from the park turns out to be her long-lost friend, who doesn’t remember her at all and, instead, greets her with a startling request:You! You are the one who’ll help me find what I’m looking for!For the Romellura Mini-bang. Art byviraseii.





	Two of Cups (say you'll be back)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! Have a Romellura that was supposed to be only 5k words but got out of control. Art is by [viraseii](https://viraseii.tumblr.com/), who was incredibly patient with me. Thank you! And also thanks to Mod Romelle for her kindness and tolerance with my normal, crippling anxiety lol. Enjoy!

When Romelle was twelve she met a girl, and her fate took a weird turn.

She didn’t know at the time, of course. Innocently walking to her first day of school, stopping her new skirt from flapping in the strong wind, and avoiding stepping into the lines of the sidewalk, she didn’t expect anything fantastic to happen to her that particular morning. She would’ve been satisfied with just surviving the impact of meeting her new classmates and calling it a day, honestly. 

But even if she wasn’t expecting any fateful encounter, a fateful encounter happened anyway, started by a gentle hand grabbing her by her sleeve. Startled by the sudden intrusion, Romelle turned to look at the offender with wide-open eyes, and a new world of wonder manifested itself in the form of a beautiful girl, staring back at her with an expression mirroring her own.

The girl was wearing the same uniform and looked about her age, but her glowing, dark skin, light curly hair, and vibrant eyes gave her an otherworldly appearance that Romelle couldn’t process in the few seconds they stared at each other in awe, until the girl pointed upwards and stuttered, a bit flushed: 

“That’s… that’s going to fall.”

And, as if obeying a command, a branch from the tree Romelle was about to pass by seemed to give up against the strong wind of that breezy spring day and, with a heavy crack, fell to the ground, barely a couple of steps from where the girls were standing. Romelle blinked fast, looking at the heavy branch at their feet and then turning to the stranger, who was looking at her own shiny shoes now.

“How did you know it would fall?” she asked, heart still pounding fast before the imminence of such danger. The other girl fidgeted.

“I saw it,” she answered after a short pause, dragging one of her feet on the ground and looking guilty. But Romelle, always proud to call herself a fast-thinker, observed the broken branch, the noisy way in which the trees were dancing in the wind, and then smiled at her.

“You saw it was about to break, good call! I wasn’t paying attention at all, thanks a lot. Two more steps and I’d be a goner!”

“R-right. Uhm, you’re welcome,” replied the other girl, but her shy smile only made Romelle like her even more. 

Bouncing on her little feet, she asked: 

“Hey, are you going to Daibazaal Academy? Me too, I’m a first-year! I’m Romelle, by the way.”

“Yes. Yes I am,” answered the other girl. They started walking side by side. Romelle noticed the girl’s eyes had a strange glint to them, even under the cool shade of the trees. She stared into them with curiosity, as the girl said, “My name is Allura.”

“Allura. I like it,” declared Romelle without thinking. She blushed a bit, but her companion chuckled.

“Thank you. I like your name too,” said Allura, and Romelle discovered for the first time the dimples that decorated that cute smile. 

Much later, if she had to pinpoint the moment when everything started, and even though she didn’t know at the time, she’d probably say it had to be that windy morning, full of pale sunlight and gorgeous smiles.

* * *

After their first encounter and the entrance ceremony, Allura and Romelle found out they were actually classmates. Even if they only met that morning, they decided that sitting next to each other after becoming acquaintances was the smartest move, and it paid off really fast. 

They simply clicked. Allura was pretty, smart and well-behaved, even if Romelle knew she could be goofy at times, and very passionate when talking about her interests. Romelle, instead, was loud by default and very strong-willed, prone to mischief and adventure. But not long after meeting each other, whenever things got rough for her and her brother Bandor at home —and they often did so back then—, she'd always go to Allura and lie on her lap in silence, while her friend patiently waited for her to be ready to speak, braiding her blonde hair in the meantime with soft hands. And she always ended up telling her what was upsetting her, usually feeling better about it after that too. Allura's sincere smile and encouraging words seemed to hold the power to bring her back to her feet without fail. She liked to believe that Allura, though more reserved, trusted her the same way.

A year after they met, Romelle could barely believe she had been so lucky as to get herself such a wonderful friend. The problem was, not everyone shared her point of view.

“She’s so weird,” said Merla, another classmate of theirs, who usually cared very little about hurting sensibilities. “She looks all perfect with her pretty writing and her hair and stuff, but we proved that, whenever she says something bad will happen, it _ does _ happen! Shouldn’t you be scared, Romelle? She’ll curse you.”

“Of course not, you dumbass,” Romelle answered, irritated. Both girls were in charge of putting away the volleyballs at the gym after P.E. class, an arrangement Romelle disliked for this very reason. Scrunching her nose in disgust, she mumbled, “She doesn’t _ curse _ things, she's just… very observant.”

“Observant?" sneered Merla, rolling her eyes. “Mrs. Dayak never, EVER calls in sick, and she does just when Allura said we didn't need to study for her exam? Yeah, right, veeery observant of her. Also, remember when she warned Lea to avoid P.E. because she’d get hurt, and then Lea twisted her ankle on the way back because she slipped on the stairs of the gym? What a coincidence that Lea broke Allura’s favorite pen by mistake that same week, hah! Weird stuff, I tell you!”

“Shut up, you’re just jealous of her because you wanted to win the English composition contest,” spat Romelle, and Merla went beet red.

“I’m not, and you’re also weird for being her friend when she never listens to what you’re saying! She always has that stupid dazed look on her face… Hmph. Guess it takes a weirdo to befriend another weirdo.”

“Oohhh, you jelly? Wanna join the weirdo club _ so _ badly? We can make you some space, but you’d have to ditch the circus first,” Romelle answered fiercely, and Merla threw a weak slap at her before she stomped out of the gym soon after. But even if petty victories like that were one of her favorite snacks, Romelle couldn’t deny… there was a bit of truth in Merla’s words. 

Walking back to the classroom, Romelle thought of all the times Allura lost track of their conversation to stop for a moment, looking at nothing, to soon after announcing an event about to take place that she could never have guessed beforehand via conventional methods. It was a bit scary, yeah, but these episodes were usually followed by Allura staring at Romelle with concern and shame, apparently horrified for drifting off in the middle of their talk. However, Romelle would always just smile and keep talking, sometimes asking her about what she just said, others just going back to what they were talking about before if the topic seemed upsetting. The relief Allura showed every time she did that was palpable, and it always brought a warm feeling to her chest.

Staring at the school grounds, Romelle stopped for a moment, taking a hand to her chest. That warm feeling was happening very often, in fact. And at the most ordinary moments, like when they were having lunch and speaking about any dumb thing; whenever Allura laughed, or when she was scratching her head while doing her homework; whenever she got mad at something and would puff her cheeks just like her five hamsters did in the pics she showed her all the time… Romelle sighed, and she realized she also seemed to be sighing a lot lately. In fact… when did she even start sighing like that?

Puzzled, she walked to the classroom, unconsciously accelerating her pace at the thought of meeting Allura for lunch, but when she got there, she was met by an unexpected scene.

“Read mine next!” said many voices at the same time. Alarmed, Romelle noticed they were circling Allura’s desk and she quickly tried to get into the circle, but to her surprise, the girls weren’t fighting her friend: they were actually fighting each other for the privilege of sitting _ in front _ of her. 

“—And it’s upright, so… A celebration is coming, I think maybe you’ll be getting a gift? Or more like, a wish.” Allura was scrunching her eyebrows, but then she lifted her gaze at her classmate and smiled. “I think you are about to get something you wanted a lot.”

“A dog?! Can you see if that is?” asked the girl, and the rest booed her for her innocent choice. Allura chuckled at it, a bit blushed, as if all the sudden attention was making her giddy.

Feeling a weird sting overlapping with the mysterious warm sensation from before, Romelle raised her voice.

“What’s going on here?” 

“Ah, Romelle! Hi!” said Allura, now smiling brightly, and the warmth immediately won over the other uncomfortable sensation, vanishing it completely. 

“Allura can read your fortune! Hira brought a bunch of cards and we were figuring out how to use them…” explained a classmate.

“Hira?” asked Romelle. The serious class president didn’t seem the type, but she just blushed while crossing her arms.

“They were in a box of Mrs. Dayak’s confiscated items from decades ago. She told me to get rid of them, but…”

“But they are awesome and Allura is the real deal!” said another girl, and Romelle pressed her lips. Most of these girls didn’t even talk to her before, intimidated by the same things Merla mentioned before, yet now they were crawling around her like a bunch of pesky mosquitoes, suddenly realizing how awesome Allura was.

However, watching the shy pride in Allura’s features, she swallowed her complaints and just dropped on her chair by her best friend’s side, having to tolerate the other girls swarming around her and covering the view with their skirts all over the place. She had to be content with listening to Allura’s voice over the general noise.

“Five of Swords. May be bad news…”

“But isn’t it reversed?!”

“Well, yes. That’s why…”

“Huh?!”

Romelle sighed again. She realized she was being a bit irrational. Like, alright, it sucked that most of these girls would try to get close to Allura for some superficial reason like that, but it wasn’t like they were cutting their time together or something. It was just that Allura was so amazing and kind and soft-hearted, and she…

Well, she realized she wished everyone and no one knew that at the same time.

Confused by this realization, she was relieved when Mr. Blaytz came into the room, but then she hit her forehead with her desk when the teacher, instead of stopping the circus, happily asked for a read himself. Curse that aloof excuse of a teacher…

“I didn’t know you could read tarot? Where did you learn that?” asked Romelle later, when they were leaving school. Here and there, the girls would say “see you tomorrow, Lu!” to her friend, irritating her further. Allura, maybe noticing that, looked a bit guilty.

“I… I learned from my auntie Honerva,” she answered in a low voice.

“Oh.” Romelle frowned. “Uhm, isn’t she that aunt of yours who had to leave the country a while ago…?”

Allura clutched the strap of her bag.

“Yes,” she said, crestfallen. Then she stared at Romelle with apologetic eyes. “Sorry I didn’t tell you about it. It was supposed to be a secret, but when I saw Lea giving everyone fake reads I just couldn’t contain myself…”

“No, no! No need to apologize,” Romelle hurried to say, ashamed of making Allura feel bad, “But, uh… is there a reason to keep it a secret? It’s actually really cool, so...”

Allura’s sad smile wasn’t new, but it was as heartbreaking as always. From it, Romelle knew the answer before she even said it.

“My dad,” she said, confirming Romelle’s suspicions. “He doesn’t like… when I do these things.”

The girls had stopped in front of the school gates, full of people and movement. And as if they summoned it, a car parked softly by their side, the driver opening his window and smiling at them.

“Right on time! Hi, Romelle!” he said.

“Hi, Mr. Alfor,” answered the girl, looking at Allura who was tucking a strand of her pale hair behind her ear, a gesture that was a dead giveaway of her nervousness. Romelle put a hand over Allura’s shoulder, softly clutching it.

“Bye, Lu. See you tomorrow, yeah?” 

Allura stared right at her eyes, and then she smiled.

“See you tomorrow, Romi.”

And then she rounded the car and got inside, waving at her. 

It was a day like any other, but Romelle could still feel a strange uneasiness inside, something making it different. It could just be a bad hunch, though she wasn’t the one with the ability to know that. Or maybe it was just the lingering sensation left in her palm, tickling her skin long after she got home.

* * *

Turns out, Romelle had good reasons to be worried, as she’d soon discover.

It all happened in a very straight chain of events. For a few days, things were fine. The girls kept hanging around Allura and giving her all the attention they didn’t before, asking questions and taking interest in her visions and announcements all of a sudden. 

However, the mood shifted completely when some of Allura’s predictions started to become true— but not only the good ones.

“You said Mari would lose something precious to her, and her rabbit died yesterday! If you knew that would happen, how come you didn’t warn her so she could take it to the vet?” Merla confronted her, and Allura looked cornered and beyond terrified.

“I— I didn’t know,” she stuttered. “I mean, I felt… her pain… but I didn’t know that she—”

“Witch!” spat Merla, and the use of that word changed something among the classmates. Most of the girls were suddenly afraid, and slowly but surely went back to their previous attitude towards Allura, except that now they were more vocal about their opinions on her classmate’s abilities, having confirmed they were ‘legit’.

And then, to make things worse, Mrs. Dayak overheard the few enthusiasts left trying to convince Allura to give them another reading, and her first action was to call Allura’s dad to inform him of his daughter’s unacceptable hobby.

Romelle didn’t even sleep that night, tossing and turning in her bed, fearing for her friend. It wasn’t that Mr. Alfor was a scary man, but he was very strict with Allura. A passionate scientist, he aspired to make Allura follow his steps, and for that he took some extreme measures, like casting away his sister Honerva, labeling her “a bad influence”. Allura wasn’t very open to discuss these matters, but she did from time to time, and from what Romelle understood, Honerva —Allura’s only aunt and her personal idol— had similar abilities to those of her friend. 

How did things exactly go in that house, Romelle didn’t know, but if Alfor was capable of sending his own sister away for that reason, she feared Allura’s punishment for using the same skills she taught her. 

However, to her surprise, Allura went to school the next day with a relieved smile. They sat behind the school building at lunch, to speak in private.

“He said I should not do this at school anymore. I told him the girls got scared that I was always right, and he said he’ll let me use my… my potential,” she explained, using that word for the first time. She smiled at Romelle. “I just have to use it when he lets me. He said he’ll make sure that I can do it without scaring anyone.”

“Really? That’s… that’s a relief,” said Romelle, but for some strange reason, it didn’t feel that way. Trying to calm herself down, she added, “Well, I’m glad! These idiots didn’t deserve all that effort, anyway. Don’t let it get to you, okay? Don’t listen to them, they are just jealous of you.”

Allura smiled, her cheeks rosy.

“Thank you, Romi. I shouldn’t have let them know, but I guess… I just wanted to be friends with them.”

“Aw, it’s not your fault, really. Don’t be sad! And, well, I know it’s not much, but at least you have me,” she joked, bumping her shoulder against Allura’s. Her friend, however, smiled at her with kind eyes.

“It’s more than enough for me. You will always be my favorite person,” she said with absolute honesty, and Romelle could feel it, a shock of electricity paralyzing her entire body at these words, starting exactly from the point where their pinkies were casually touching in the ground. She laughed, flushed and confused by what she was feeling, while Allura added:

“Now that I think about it, you are the only one who didn’t ask for a reading. My dad told me to give the cards back to Mrs. Dayak… Would you like me to try before that?”

Romelle swallowed, still shocked and confused.

“Ah… I don’t know, should I…?”

Allura chuckled, a bit mischievous, and that duality of her personality brought another twist to Romelle’s gut. It wasn’t the first time, but as she picked three cards the way Allura instructed her, she realized it was the first time this strange sensation was so... overwhelming. She barely paid any attention to the process, hypnotized instead with the delicate movements of her friend’s hands, until she saw Allura frown.

“The Star. The protection of destiny. Three of Swords, loss, grief… and The Two of Cups. Return of love, forgiveness. It feels like… you will lose something important to you, but not forever. You’ll just have to… bring it back? Maybe unbury it? Uhm…” Allura frowned, confused, and then pouted. “Sorry, this is not what I wanted to give you, it’s so dark... I don’t know what’s going on.”

“No, no, it’s okay! That’s interesting,” said Romelle, snapping out of her trance when she saw that Allura was looking gloomy again. She crossed her arms, thinking of a way to distract her. “Say, have you ever tried reading yourself?”

“Auntie said it’s bad and I shouldn’t do it. Said it just accelerates the loss,” answered Allura, mysterious.

“The loss? What’s that?” asked Romelle. Allura made a face as if she was hiding a huge secret, but when she noticed Romelle was expectantly waiting for the answer, she laughed.

“I don’t know! She never got to explain it. But she said I should remember that ‘nothing is free in this world’, so I’d rather not even try.”

“Wow, okay. Scary,” mumbled Romelle, and Allura nodded in agreement. But then Romelle smirked. “Well, since nothing is free in this world, how about I pay you by reading _ you _, for a change?”

“You know how?” asked Allura, playful.

“But of course, my dear Lu. Haven’t you seen my majestic abilities to read Merla again and again?” 

“That’s not the same kind of reading, but yes.”

“Put those cards away before someone sees them and give me your hand,” commanded Romelle, and Allura did as ordered, extending her palm.

With soft fingers, Romelle took Allura’s hand and looked at it. Her pulse accelerated, and she lifted her gaze until she met Allura’s eyes. Her friend was looking at her with an excited smile, and Romelle felt compelled to look down at the lines, tracing them with her thumbs while her heart was going bonkers inside her.

Yes, that was… something. Trying to regain some composure, she put a serious face and, with an ominous voice, she said: 

“Ahh, yes, I see it very clear… It says here you will be number one in English again, congrats, and Merla will choke, but what’s new… It also says your favorite color is pink, and that you have a mild addiction to collecting rodents… And it also says you’ll buy me a ChocoQuiznak today, but I’m not sure about that one, maybe that stain just means you should wash your hand.”

Allura laughed out loud and Romelle held that hand for a few seconds before letting go. The tickling sensation from the day before was back and she felt in her heart the dawning of something new, blinding, terrifying, and wonderful at the same time, a change bound to shake her world like the impact of a meteorite.

But she kept those feelings in the dark, trying not to touch them. Not only because they were actually very complicated, but because from that point onwards, she was distracted by other things happening, casting shadows over their bright and peaceful days. 

After a few weeks, Allura, who was always smiling, always full of energy and eager to learn, started to look tired and distracted in class. She started drifting off more frequently, and her eyes, shiny before, now were framed by new dark circles that made her look permanently sleepy. 

No matter how much Romelle asked, she always said nothing was wrong. She was just helping her dad with some projects. An investigation, she’d say. But her friend, knowing her so well, was sure something else had to be up. Slowly, Allura started dropping her grades, even though she went straight home every day now, and Romelle was feeling as if her best friend was slipping away, even while she sat by her side. The permanent ache in her chest went slowly from warm to cold, an uneasiness she couldn’t stop…

And then that awful day came.

Before, both girls used to walk home together often, whenever Alfor couldn’t go pick up Allura. Now he was at the school doors most days, greeting Romelle like always and taking his daughter home personally. It shouldn’t raise any red flag, but for some reason, Romelle hated it. Not only because it stopped their strolls and their visits to the local shops, but because it made her feel as if Allura was… caged.

So, when Allura came to her that day, particularly pale, and asked her to walk together on the way back, Romelle found it a bit alarming, but she did so without protest.

It was a cloudy day, the wind blowing in a way that reminisced the day they met under the same row of trees they were now passing by in silence, except that the atmosphere felt heavy and charged with something similar to fear. Watching Allura’s back as she walked slightly ahead of her, Romelle felt the sudden urge to grab her as if she was about to fall down a cliff. She even raised an arm, opened her mouth, but just then, Allura halted her steps, and for many seconds, she didn’t say anything at all. And Romelle, rounding her and staring at her face, understood she was having one of her visions.

It didn’t look pleasant. Her dazed eyes were resting in the leaves of the trees without seeing them, and her lips were so tightly pressed they were turning white. Her clear irises were trembling almost imperceptibly, and Romelle waited for her to come back when, suddenly, the sound of a car turning around the corner distracted her and she realized, startled, that Alfor was coming their way.

When Romelle turned back to Allura, she found her staring back at her with an expression she’d never forget. A mix of pain, fear and something else that Romelle, in her shock, couldn’t really understand at that moment, but that she somehow knew she had to be mirroring.

“Allura! What are you doing here?” said Alfor in the distance, a bit scandalized, walking towards them.

Allura’s hands were shaking as she dipped them into her bag and took out something from it, shoving it to Romelle’s chest. She stared down at it, and her heart fluttered in a mix of surprise and fear. 

They were cards. The same three cards that were supposed to announce her future, and that Allura must have kept from the old deck Dayak confiscated.

“Lu…?” she mumbled, astonished.

“Keep them, please. I’ll claim them back, I promise,” said Allura, her mouth dry. Her fingers moved slowly over Romelle’s hands, a caress that left her breathless, and then shock paralyzed her entire body when Allura hugged her, burying her nose in the crook of her neck and closing her eyes as if she wanted to shut down everything around them. 

Frozen, Romelle saw Alfor approach them with one eyebrow raised in some sort of pitiful expression.

“Allura, please… don’t be like this.”

“Mr. Alfor, what's—” Romelle tried to ask, but she was interrupted.

“Sorry, Romelle.” The man tried to smile, but it didn’t come out quite like that. “Family business.”

He gently put a hand on her daughter’s shoulder, and after a few seconds that felt like an eternity, the girl let go of Romelle.

“Bye, Romi,” she said as if she was about to cry.

For years to come, Romelle would question herself if she should—_ could _ have done something else that day. She just stood there, helplessly watching Allura wave at her from the front seat like she usually did, ignoring that it would be the last time she’d see her best friend. But she was only fourteen, a powerless kid who had to hear from Mrs. Dayak the news that Allura had had to leave the country due to her father’s business and try not to scream in front of her entire class.

She had plenty of time to think about the odds of that day during the stormy years of her adolescence, feeling everything there was to feel in a lot of stages. Pure, raw pain and sadness at the absence of her personal angel, her number one confidant, her support. Rage at the unfairness, the betrayal of not being told in advance what was going on, and the hateful sound of her calls never getting through. 

And, among the tears she never showed to anyone else, holding three tarot cards in her fist, she felt the painful sting of heartbreak, the frustration of seeing this, the one she belatedly dared to label as her first love, being put down by forces she couldn’t oppose. 

With the ghost sensation of Allura’s warm hug all over her, she writhed in her bed night after night, until one day... she didn’t anymore. At one point she cried until she couldn’t anymore, and then got back up, because that was supposed to be how life works, or so said everyone around her.

And, so, the pain was subdued, then dulled, then almost forgotten. She met other friends, she started going out, she grew up and had to face the harsh reality of life all by herself. After all, just like some distant whisper from the past said in a soft, dreamlike voice, ‘_ nothing is free in this world _’, and she'd find out no truer words were ever spoken in due time.

* * *

At twenty-three, Romelle is kinda broke.

So, college had been one of those ideas that sound neat in the paper but then are terrible in execution. For a while, she had the comfort that at least she had met Luka there, so it was worth it, regardless of her flunking out in utter disappointment and acquiring a useless, crippling student debt.

A few months since they broke up, though (and with the good ol’ _ I don’t think you love me enough, _ no less!), it’s _ a bit _hard seeing the bright side of things.

Still, thinks Romelle, putting on her mismatching socks to get ready for another long day of tending tables, the show must go on as it has many times before, and the world won’t stop for one heartbroken —or rather, just broke— girl. It hadn’t before, it wouldn’t now that the vultures were waiting to dry her pockets before they even got filled. So, trying to make the best out of the situation, she allows herself just one irritated sigh, practices her business smile in front of her mirror, combs her long blonde hair into a high ponytail, and leaves her bathroom, convinced that absolutely nothing extraordinary is going to happen today, and probably never in her plain life.

Even so, there's one tiny little thing she does once in a while that's out of that mindset, that she feels like doing today. After hesitating for a moment, she rounds her bed until she reaches her night table, opens the drawer and takes from it three old pieces of washed-out cardboard, to simply stare at them for a couple of minutes. 

It’s like a twisted good luck ritual that has never truly given her _ any _ good luck, but… oh well. She does it anyway, pretty much like people buy lottery tickets thinking 'this time I'll win!' and they don't, ever.

In all honesty, the number of tears she shed looking at these cards when Allura left makes them kind of a bad memento, but also one she could never throw away— even if the idea crossed her mind multiple times at different stages of her short life. But she could never get around it. Not even when her previous girlfriends inquired about them with hints of jealousy, or when she left home and threw away all useless stuff. 

It’s not like she’s clinging to that fake promise Allura made before going away, saying she’d retrieve them to never come back. Nope, not at all. It’s more like, she’s fond of them because they are from a time when life was still pure and simple. They help her stay true to herself, in a way. To remember who she was and who she hopes to still be, even if she is currently lost, unmotivated and _ slightly _ bitter.

They are really battered, though, she thinks while observing them from all angles. If she’s still keeping them like the idiot she is, maybe she should consider changing their plastic at least, before they fade completely. 

Her phone suddenly ringing makes her flinch. She looks at the time before taking her brother’s call, and while bickering with him over some insurance issues none of them really understand, she hurries to gather all her scattered belongings and somehow fit them inside her backpack with little care. And that’s when the first thing out of the ordinary happens in this very ordinary day: instead of putting the cards away like she always does, she mixes them with her other things and throws them all into the backpack, making a run for it to get to her first part-time job of the day while completely ignoring she’s carrying three ratty mementos from her past with her.

Everything is normal at first. She works her shift, taking orders and bringing plates while chatting here and there with customers and employees alike. However, when two ladies leaving the restaurant comment excitedly about some new amazing tarotist they’ll be meeting today, Romelle suddenly feels a very unjustified twist in her stomach. Confused by her reaction, she realizes she’s not the only one who overheard them when the other waitress, Pidge, lazily comments:

“I’ve heard a lot of people talking about that tarotist lately. It’s kinda annoying.”

“Oh, yeah,” says Hunk, the young chef, his head popping through the square in the wall connected to the kitchen, as he puts two plates in the ledge and rings the bell, just because. “They say she’s been working at the nearby park for a few weeks. I heard she’s a pretty scary lady.”

“As in, pretty AND scary? Or just ‘pretty scary’?” asks Pidge, taking the two plates and leaving without even hearing the answer.

“Apparently both. They say she’s scarily accurate, at least,” replies Hunk. Then he looks at Romelle. “Hey, why don't you check her out? Maybe you could tell us if she’s actually any good or not?”

“Wha— Why me?” she asks, a bit scandalized.

“Well, you have tarot cards too, don’t you? If you’re into that, then—” 

“WHAT?!”

When a few customers stare at them, Romelle waves apologetically at them, then turns to Hunk, who raises his hands as if surrendering.

“How… how do you know that?” Romelle whispers aggressively.

“Geez, calm down! Remember this morning you told me I could grab an aspirin from your backpack? Thanks, by the way, that hangover was killing me— But anyways, I open your backpack and I find a horrifying amount of trash inside, some old tarot cards, and my blessed aspirins. To be honest, I just hope those three things aren’t related in any way...”

“Wait, you mean I’m carrying the— oh,” says Romelle, and she slaps her forehead, startling Hunk.

“Uh, you alright? I didn’t mean to pry, really,” he says, worried. Romelle sighs— a habit she picked during her teenage years— and then grins at Hunk.

“No, I'm sorry. I didn’t— I just didn’t realize I was carrying them with me. They are just… a gift from an old friend.”

“Ah, I see! Not gonna lie, for a moment I thought you had a secret identity… you know, waitress during the day, mysterious psychic of the park at night?” jokes Hunk, making Romelle roll her eyes and grin.

“The woman is at the park during the day, Hunk, so we’re Romelle’s alibi. Boring,” says Pidge, coming back. She supports her weight on the wall next to Hunk’s window. “Well, if you wanna check her out, you’d be on time at the end of your shift. She’s supposed to be there in the afternoons every day from what I heard. But if you feel like throwing away your money, you could always give it to me instead… Consider it.”

“Ha-ha. Very funny. I'm not going, I don’t care about that stupid stuff, anyway,” declares Romelle, stubborn. Her coworkers shrug and go back to their respective tasks, but as soon as she has a moment of peace, Romelle sneaks out to the locker room and opens her backpack. After rummaging through her stuff, she finds them: the three cards are innocently tucked in a corner of it, as if they hid there by themselves.

It’s utterly stupid that the sight of the cards and the conversation about this mysterious tarotist brings something similar to a tiny spark of hope to her chest. Hope that something different, something amazing could happen...

She carefully extinguishes it, though. For years, she hoped for a miracle that never came: she stopped believing in fateful encounters and promised reunions long ago. She won’t make that mistake again, ever. 

So of course it’s just a coincidence that, at the end of her shift, she ditches her usual shortcut to her next job to take the long way, crossing the park. Just to take the panoramic route, she resolutely tells herself. Not any other reason whatsoever.

Regardless, in the light of the afternoon, she walks through the dirt paths of the park, watching the people enjoy the spring breeze. The sway of the leaves and the smell of fresh grass seems to be bringing back memories that echo inside Romelle with every step she takes, meaning this was _ not _ a good idea. It’s almost as if she’s expecting something extraordinary from this ordinary day, allowing herself to drift off to those memories carefully erased or buried.

Still, as she crosses the park, she discovers she’s holding her breath, her heart beating fast. She is about to reach the part of the park where the woman is supposed to be at, and her feet start feeling heavier in anticipation. But when she arrives at the circle of benches where she was told she’d find the tarotist… No one is under the cool shade of the trees.

_ How anticlimactic _, she thinks, feeling her lungs releasing all their retained air in disappointment. She knew better than expecting anything, really, she chides herself while deciding if she should just follow the same path she was walking or turn around and leave the park through the nearest entrance, but then...

Someone grabs her sleeve.

And Romelle, being the paranoid 23-year-old she is now, turns around with a scream that scares the pigeons around her, and raises her arms in a defensive kung-fu move she learned from some movie who knows how long ago. 

But in the process, she also forgets how to breathe.

Because holding her sleeve there’s a gorgeous woman with dark skin, iridescent eyes, silver hair. She looks like someone from another world, and also from another life, one where Romelle knew her and called her her best friend, who shared her pain and happiness during some bright, youthful days, to end up being sorely missed for an entire decade.

Allura stares back at her, shocked too, just like that distant day when they met, but before Romelle can push any words out of her chest, choked in emotions, the other woman grabs her by the shoulders and scares the few brave pigeons left nearby that resisted Romelle’s scream.

“You! You are the one who’ll help me find what I’m looking for!”

“I— what?” asks Romelle, completely confused.

Allura lets go of her as if she burned her hands and gives a step backward, covering her mouth.

“I’m so sorry! Please forgive my rudeness. My name is Allura, and I’m in dire need of assistance… could you perhaps lend me your ear for a moment? I promise it won’t be long.”

Her accent has changed, a detail that seems to detach her long-gone friend from this woman. She walks to the bench, spreads a purple mantle over it and invites Romelle to sit with her with a kind gesture of her hand. Romelle, however, is nailed to the floor, feeling like a bucket of cold water has been thrown over her.

So... Allura forgot her, huh.

It’s not like she expected anything, but at the same time, she would never have expected this. Or rather, that it’d _ hurt _ like this.

Allura frowns, concerned. 

“Are you alright? Could you be feeling ill…?”

“No,” says Romelle, walking towards her. It’s ridiculous, really, she should just turn around and walk away, but still… still…

She sits down and, slowly, turns her eyes towards her ex-best friend. She is even prettier from this close, a fact that irritates her further. Because of it, even in the middle of one of the biggest disappointments of her life, her insides are still doing backflips against her will, because gorgeous girls are definitely her kryptonite. _ Pathetic _, she thinks.

“I’m really sorry,” repeats Allura, crossing her hands over her lap. “I saw you and I just knew you could help me. Please forgive me if I scared you, I… seem to tend to do that.”

“Why do you think I can help you?” Romelle hears herself ask unable to suppress all the bitterness in her tone. Allura, however, doesn’t seem fazed by it. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and, staring right into her eyes, she says in a soft tone:

“Because I saw it.”

_ Of course you did. _ The past seems to manifest right there between them, the echoes of that first day, with strong winds and a broken branch. A gorgeous smile framed by dimples, her heart skipping a beat that took a long time to interpret correctly. Romelle slides hands down her face and, between her fingers, she mumbles:

“What do you need?”

“Wait, you won’t… question what I just said?”

Romelle, pissed off, raises her head to stare at Allura again. Given her surprised expression, she is evidently used to be confronted about her visions, and very oblivious of the effect her words have over Romelle. _ So-irritating _.

“Listen, lady, I may look like this, but I’m actually a busy person. I don’t have time to debate if you need my help or not, I’d rather hear what can I do to help you,” spouts Romelle, knowing fully she’s being kinda rude— but that’s what ten years of neglect can do to a good soul.

“Of—of course, sorry,” stutters Allura. She clears her throat, doubtful. “Well, you see… I’m searching for something I lost, long ago. I just don’t know where to begin searching for it.”

“Something you… lost?” Romelle frowns, looking at the flowerbeds in front of them. Could it be something she left at her old house? “Is it a personal object? Or something that belonged to your family?”

“I… well...” This time, Allura blushes and looks at her with a helpless expression, as if preparing herself for an inevitable explosion. “I actually don’t know what I’m searching for.”

Silence. The wind blows, a dog barks, the sun shines over their heads. Romelle turns her head slowly towards Allura again, and the tarotist seems to sink in the bench.

“Then... How _ the hell _do you expect me to help you?!” asks Romelle, unable to decide if she should laugh or just set herself on fire. Or both. 

“I’M SORRY, I know this sounds utterly stupid, but… But I’m afraid if I told you the entire story, you’d think I’m crazy… Well, _ crazier _ than what you may already believe...”

Romelle snorts. That would be the case, under normal circumstances… but this is Allura, and with her, nothing was ever ‘normal’, while everything was always ‘possible’. Looking at the time in her phone she presses her lips, noticing her heart is beating insolently fast in her chest. The furious battle between her resentment and her curiosity is resolved against her better judgment: she puts the phone away and stares at Allura again.

“Look, lady, I’m two things: really hard to impress, and also _ very _ late for work. So, how about this: you can try telling me your story tomorrow, and you may be surprised at how open-minded I can be,” says Romelle, and also against her better judgment, she smirks.

Allura blinks, surprised. Then she blushes a bit, and a shy smile appears on her lips.

“I’m usually here, but I can go wherever it’s best for you…”

“No, here is fine. I’ll— I’ll come here. Same time tomorrow,” says Romelle, standing up.

“Yes. Yes, of course! Thank you so much, uh…” Allura looks at her, clearly asking for her name. Romelle looks away.

“Merla,” she grumbles after a few seconds, trying to ignore how much it stings to be asked who she is. When Allura opens her eyes wide, though, Romelle feels like she may be reaching the edge of her tolerance because, on God, if Allura remembers Merla and not her—

“You don’t look like a Merla,” says the tarotist, and Romelle makes a pathetic sound that worries Allura enough to get closer to her and check if she’s choking. The girl steps back, establishing a prudent distance between her and those lashes she’d rather not appreciate from up close.

“Aightthensametimesameplacetomorrow, BYE!” exclaims Romelle, swinging her backpack and leaving without looking back, walking as fast as she can without running.

Her heart is leaping and her mind is blank the whole way to the shop. And her face must be really something, because even though she is fifteen minutes late to her second part-time job, Boss Shirogane —Chief Shiro, how they call him— doesn’t even ask for an explanation after she crosses the backdoor and almost bumps into him.

Nothing extraordinary was supposed to happen today, yet there she is. Before starting her shift, she takes the three cards from her backpack, frowning at them. So if these three little shits were to blame for this, she ought to have burned them years ago, before giving them the chance to break her heart a _ second _time around with such a terrible reunion and the proved fact that Allura never cared for her the same way she did.

But she doesn’t burn them that night when she’s back home. In fact, she doesn’t even take them out from her backpack. Not like she is waiting for another extraordinary thing to happen, though. Not in the slightest...

* * *

They meet again the next day. Romelle arrives exactly five minutes later than the day before, not at all calculated, and when she gets to the benches she sees that Allura is reading for someone.

“—because it’s reversed. However, I wouldn’t put all my faith on that. It’s you who needs to make the change, the cards are only a picture of your own deeds.” Her kind smile is almost offensive in its perfection, as she encourages the other person to be brave.

When Allura sees Romelle staring at her, though, she blushes and stutters a bit while dismissing her client, who shakes her hand vigorously. Romelle, grinning slightly against her resolution to look tough, takes the seat by her side.

“Is the business thriving?”

“Hello, Merla,” says Allura, missing the way Romelle rolls her eyes. “I have more people coming to me now. However, I’d prefer that people didn’t spread the word so fast… I’m only reading now to make a bit of money while I wait.”

“Wait for what?” asks Romelle. When Allura doesn’t answer immediately, she rests her cheek on her fist as she offers: “That thing you’re looking for?”

“Yes,” confirms Allura, sighing. Then she stares at Romelle with those big, beautiful eyes, and her head almost slips from her fist. The tarotist doesn’t seem to notice, her eyes wandering to the leaves of the trees, the light filtering between them casting rays over them. It’s almost painful, thinks Romelle, to be the only one feeling the piercing nostalgy of this scene in her bones.

“So?” she asks after a while, bringing Allura’s attention back to her. “What’s your story?”

Allura makes a short pause before she starts speaking, and Romelle understands that, once again, she didn’t know what to expect, and once again, it definitely wasn’t what she is getting.

It’s not that Allura forgot only about her. She forgot a good chunk of her last decade and most of her childhood. The reason? 

The Loss.

“I was warned. My father was warned. My aunt has the same gift as I do, and their mother also had it before her. She tried to educate me so I could make use of it without having to forfeit it. However…” Allura’s smile is the exact same it was when she addressed the topic as a child, so Romelle knows exactly what’s next. “My father didn’t let her teach me. He separated us. I don’t think he did so out of malice, but then… well…”

Allura can’t imagine how much sense her story makes to Romelle, who listens to her with her jaw slacking. This part of the story she already knows: she was there, in fact, even if she ignored what was happening behind the scenes back in the day. 

She witnessed the breaking point, too: When Allura started reading tarot for her classmates and her predictions became true, Alfor changed his mind about his daughter’s power. Instead of punishing her or forbidding her from using it, he decided to collect data about it. He set different ways to study Allura’s abilities, and he took a particular interest in the visions. 

“He studied them, and my reactions. At first, it was a game for me, I was happy he’d finally accept my abilities,” says Allura, smiling bitterly. “However, after a while, he found ways to force them. He discovered triggers, created situations to test them… and I started feeling it. My head wasn’t working like it used to. But I cooperated, because he said we’d use it for good. My predictions helped people, he offered them to scientists and trusted friends who helped him compile data and sometimes were saved from trouble by my warnings. I don’t remember much of it, but I believe that, until then, my father still had good intentions. But...”

Allura lowers her eyes, her hair framing her tense face like a wavy curtain.

“An outsider heard about it through my father’s contacts. Some powerful guy who had a business in another country. If the rumors were true, he offered my dad to support all his projects and research if I gave him precise information about future events that interested him. I knew… I knew it didn’t work like that. My father also knew that. But still, he made it work, in the end. We left this country and from then… My life happened in time skips. I don’t remember most of my teens. And I slowly started losing older memories too. We were rich by then already, but I— I had nothing.”

Surprisingly, Allura smiles at the sky now, even if her words could break the coldest heart.

“In time, I got very sick. My father knew he was abusing my power, and when I ended up in a hospital I think he understood how far he had taken it. He completely lost sight of his initial motivation, and this was something his knowledge couldn’t fix… so he called his sister, my aunt Honerva. She had been trying to contact me for years, and he let her take me away when I was released, so people wouldn't know where to find me. I think he’s ashamed of what he did, but he doesn’t deal well with things he cannot control, so… he isn’t brave enough to face me now. Maybe he will, one day.”

Romelle can’t speak, something is stuck in her throat. Luckily for her, Allura answers the questions she’d like to ask before she needs to formulate them, continuing her story.

“My aunt felt it was her fault that I was in that state. She said if she was stronger to fight my father, or if she didn’t treat me like a child when I was younger and actually explained the price of using our abilities, I could have opposed him. Instead, my head got messed up and my potential was out of control. That’s the Loss, you see. Some of our abilities are a heavy burden for our brains, they come in exchange for a high price. You have to use it carefully, ideally learn how to control it so it won’t overcome your connection to reality and your train of thought. Which is exactly the opposite of what I did… therefore, the price to pay was my memory. I’m not sure if this is temporal or permanent amnesia, but I know I’ve been trying to get better for a couple of years now, and I've been able to pick up some things. Feelings, sensations, flashes… That’s why I’m here.”

Allura exhales, straightening her back, suddenly looking energetic and motivated. 

“I know this place is important to me. I know I left something important here, but I don’t have many clues and the few mementos I had left stayed with my father. But I don’t care, I came because I’m sure I’ll find it. I have to.”

“How are you so sure?”

Romelle hears herself and her voice doesn’t sound like her own. Allura stares into her eyes and smiles.

“The cards told me.”

“How?” insists Romelle.

“Well. I could have asked my aunt to read them for me, but she has stopped using her potential completely. She has her own issues. So, well, I thought... Since I’ve already broken all rules and paid the price, why not do the one thing I was forbidden as a child?” Allura smiles wider, mischievous. “So I just read myself.”

“But… Allura!” Romelle can’t help yelling, but her concern makes Allura laugh shyly.

“It’s fine! Reading tarot is something I can do without forcing my brain. It’s like repeating something someone else says. But they aren't very precise. They just said I'd have to search for something important I lost. And even though I barely have visions now, I know for sure that thing is here. And I will find it, even if it takes a while." 

Romelle bites the inside of her cheek, scratches her head, drags a hand down her face. Allura watches her benevolently, apparently understanding her stress, though she seems to not notice her bright eyes.

“And then… How did you know I’d help you?” finally asks Romelle, her voice very thin.

“Ah, well. I had a very clear vision when I came to this city, the last one I've had. I saw this park and this pretty blonde lady approaching me. And I felt… pulled towards this person.” Allura giggles. “I’m so sorry if it sounds creepy... I bet you changed your— Oh. Uhm, Merla?"

Romelle has a lot of training holding back tears, for real, but this time her polished ability seems to fail her at a critical moment, as two insolent tears roll down her cheeks. Allura looks horrified for making her cry, but Romelle just shakes her head and breathes in and out to push her voice out. After a while, snorting in a very indelicate way, she mumbles in a strained voice a simple declaration.

"I'll help you."

Allura’s expression shifts from panic to surprise. She sees her red nose and puffy eyes and, in a tone full of gratitude, she says:

“You’re such a good person.”

_ No, I’m not _, thinks Romelle, hating herself for holding a grudge for so long, for being so useless while Allura suffered so much. The pressure in her chest seems about to burst and, without thinking, she takes Allura’s hand between her own, and says:

“No, really, we've got this. I swear you'll find what you're looking for... You can count on me.”

Allura, shocked, looks at their joined hands. Then, blushing, she blinks quickly.

“Thank you for believing me, Merla. I’ll be forever in your debt.”

“No, you won’t. I’m doing this because I must,” says Romelle, looking around and feeling her heart full of a new, overwhelming resolution. Allura is staring at her with curiosity now, maybe intrigued by Romelle’s words, but she stands up, snorting one last time.

“Alright, I’m sorry to leave like this, but I gotta work today. I’m free tomorrow, though, so… what do you say? Same time, same place?” she asks.

“If you can…”

“I can,” assures Romelle. Allura catches her determination and smiles, sweet.

“Then I’d be delighted to meet you again. See you soon, Merla,” says Allura. She looks so grateful and at peace under the shade of the trees. “Thank you so much.”

And that’s how “same time, same place” becomes a promise, and soon, a routine.

* * *

‘Merla’ never realized she needed to know the truth so much until she heard it. It has meant relief and closure; a belated consolation for past Romelle, the kid who cried so many nights for her first love. 

However, it has also meant knowing how much Allura suffered, realizing how unfounded was her resentment towards her, and mourning the time stolen from them by forces they couldn’t oppose. But if years of living day by day and putting away all useless thoughts to survive have taught her something it’s that, if she’s being given the chance to make up for it, she must take it instead of uselessly dwelling in the past, and that’s exactly what she does. 

Romelle starts her quest to help Allura recover and find that thing she wants so much by simply chatting with her, at least the first week. She visits her when time and her two jobs allow it, and they sit and talk about random stuff. Sometimes she watches Allura work, reading tarot for eager clients. Sometimes they just stroll around the park. Romelle tries to get the most information she can while also dodging personal questions in the threshold of deceit. In a constant come and go, both share what they are capable of in precise questions. _ Did you grow up around here? No, I didn’t. Do you really need to work as a tarotist? Yes. I refuse to use the money my father obtained by using me. Is it hard to work two jobs? Yes, but it’s harder to be homeless. Well, can’t argue with that. _

After a while, and seeing no progress, Romelle risks taking her in walks around the city, in hopes that Allura will remember something that way. The first time, she said she had tried it by herself before, with no results. With a smile, she suggested that Merla may give her good luck this time.

So, of course these comments make ‘Merla’ feel very guilty of her fickle lie that could crumble at any minute. But she also isn’t ready to drop it, mainly because she fears every possible consequence of confessing the truth: In the improbable case that her own name rings a bell, she judges herself not ready to be confronted as a liar; and in the very probable case of witnessing Allura batting her eyelashes and asking why did she have to lie about something so insignificant, she isn’t ready for that blow either. It’s a no win for her, from any point of view.

That is, until their walks become stops for coffee, their discussions become playful conversations, and the closer they are to the places they used to be, the more frequent become Allura's flashes of feelings, colors and sensations.

And also, the more this new 'tension' they have going grows between them, made of smiles and red cheeks and a lot of things that normally would make Romelle grow wings in her feet, if not for the tiny little fact that she hasn't even presented herself with her true name to the one who is, actually her long lost friend and first love.

Romelle realizes when she starts waking up thinking about other things aside from paying rent and debts, or nagging Bandor over the phone. She smiles more, and people around her start noticing that too. That, she knows, is a mistake, but one she cannot help making after meeting Allura— the new Allura, under the illusion that both are just knowing each other from scratch. Life changed both of them and it doesn't take long to understand that, even if this person is not the same as her idealized childhood friend, she is still a wonderful woman, who only became kinder after being so mistreated, and who kept the old stubbornness, the sweet resolve, the genuine smile. It’s irritating to see that no matter the universe, time, and place, she’d fall for Allura so easily all over again, but there she is, doing exactly that.

And, if she's not mistaken, this time Allura may be reacting to her in a similar way, which throws Romelle in a spiral of guilt and confusion, unable to decide if she should act on it or not, or just tell the truth, at last.

And this conflict continues, until a particular evening at the park.

It's getting colder, so Romelle arrives with coffee and waits for Allura to stop working, surrounded by an excited group of office workers.

"Will you stay here? I so wanna try again in a few weeks!" says one of the loud women.

"I don't know. My stay is subjected to me finding something I'm searching for," answers Allura, transparent like always.

"Ooohhh, sounds so mysterious! Please, if you ever change locations let us know!'

"Of course. Though I can't guarantee that I'll stay in this country…"

"What?! Nooo!"

Through the small crowd, Romelle sees Allura smiling, apologetic, and the memory of her surrounded by classmates appears vividly in her mind. Just like then, people seeking for her gift were the preface to her departing, and Romelle realizes: she definitely won't survive a repetition of that experience a second time around.

She also realizes she’s burning her hand for holding the coffee so hard, her yelp startling the group of clients.

"Merla! Are you alright?" asks Allura, hurrying to her side. 

"Ah, yes, I was just holding this the wrong way. Here, for you," answers Romelle, offering her one of the cups. 

Allura blushes— making Romelle's insides twist— and then takes the cup with a smile. She politely dismisses the crowd that is still looking at them, and then they sit at the bench. Allura looks relaxed, sipping from the cup, but Romelle can't stop her heart from beating loud, uneasy.

"So… Do you intend to leave the country if you can't find what you're looking for?" she asks. Allura lowers the cup.

"You were listening?"

"Yes."

The tarotist looks troubled and a bit ashamed.

"Well, I'm not sure. I mean, I haven't thought about it well. I was so into finding what I came for that I just…"

"Live day by day. I get you," answers Romelle.

"Yes. But it’s also true that didn't expect to be so comfortable here. It's been easier than I thought… Because I've had a lot of help," she says, smiling at Romelle in a way that makes her dimples stand out. An overkill for her companion, who has to look away while her heart flutters and words escape from her against her will.

"And, haven't you considered dropping it? Drop the search and just… start over, leaving the past behind?"

The continued silence makes Romelle slowly turn her head towards Allura. She is looking at Romelle with a pained expression, but before she can apologize, Allura says:

"Lately, I seem to consider it a lot. Maybe too much.” Her lips quiver. “But… I can't."

The thumps of her heart could as well as resound all over the park. Romelle scoots closer to Allura, suddenly desperate to cut their distance, to drop the facades.

"Why not? Allura, nothing stops you—"

"The cards. I can't ignore the cards," she answers, and Romelle almost roars in frustration.

"Why do you let them manage your life?! It's just pieces of cardboard! You can walk away, you are free to do that!"

"I know!" says Allura, raising her voice. “I know, but I also know they are trying to give me a message! Because, no matter how many times I read them, they always say the same! So, even if I— Even if I’m happy now, I’m afraid I may be missing something important!”

The chilly breeze is getting colder with the sunset. Romelle shifts even closer, almost murmuring into Allura’s ear.

“What do they say? The cards...” 

Allura slowly raises her gaze until it meets hers. For a moment, they stare into each other’s eyes, until the tarotist drops them again to the deck of cards in her hands. In silence, she manipulates them in the same way she does for her clients, cutting the deck, putting three cards in her lap. There’s a short pause during which Allura contemplates their colorful backs, before her delicate fingers turn the first one around, and Romelle’s eyes open wide. 

“The Star. The certainty of destiny and its protection. A future ahead.” Allura speaks as if she knew these words by memory. She turns the next card. “Three of Swords. An emotional loss, hope running dry and heavy grief. A price to pay…” 

She sighs before turning around the last card, but Romelle notices she smiles at it too.

“And the Two of Cups. The return of love, feelings blossoming, and long-due forgiveness. An appointed reunion after a long search. No matter how many times I try, the cards always say the same. I lost something precious, something I loved dearly, and now I have to—”

“Unbury it,” says Romelle, out of breath. Allura stares at her, surprised.

“How do you—”

But she is interrupted once again when Romelle grabs her hand and stands up.

“Come with me,” she says, feeling her mouth dry. Maybe Allura feels her rampaging pulse through the hand that holds hers too, because without asking any questions she follows Romelle, never letting go.

Romelle is used to think the worst-case scenario, convinced that fate never had a cool plan for her, that life is unfair and you have to take it, that hoping for a miracle is just to call misery. Because somewhere between her bright school days and her grim adult reality she lost all faith in reunions and happiness and love… She never suspected that Allura's buried treasure could be herself. The same way she never thought that Allura's fate could be bonded to hers, and to that of the adorable tarotist that read it for her ten years ago.

They walk many blocks to that place that Romelle didn’t take Allura before, mainly because she avoids it herself. A sidewalk near a high school, with a row of noisy trees swaying in the wind. At night, they look ominous, but their familiar view hasn’t changed after so many years.

Allura halts her steps out of a sudden.

“This place…” she says, staring around, and then at Romelle, who walks backward until she puts a distance between her and Allura, breathing in and out before saying the words that will change everything, a bet that she needs to take right now.

“Years ago, my best friend…” she closes her eyes, feeling the words rolling out of her tongue. “My first love. She said she could read my future. I picked three cards, and she interpreted them for me, in the backyard of our school.”

Romelle searches inside her backpack and, slowly, takes three worn-out cards from it that, since she met Allura again, have never been put away. Inhaling sharply, she picks them one by one to show them to Allura.

“The Star. Three of Swords. The Two of Cups.” She holds them in front of the tarotist, who stares at her with her mouth slightly open. “She said I’d lose something I loved with all my heart, but it would come back to me. She said I’d just have to unbury it. I had lost all hope, honestly, but now I see she may have been right. So, tell me… can you ask the cards how do I unbury my beloved’s memories? I want her back so bad, I can’t wait anymore…”

Romelle is shivering out of fear, of hope, of emotion. Everything mixes in chaos and falls into its place here, the street where they met and where they were also separated. Allura is pale, and Romelle worries for her, but then Allura gives a short, doubtful step forward, and says in the smallest voice:

“... Romi?”

It’s an implosion. The shock of hearing her old nickname slipping through Allura’s lips is like breathing again, to be reborn and renamed. 

“Hi, Lu,” says Romelle, her lips stretching into a smile, even though they are trembling with emotions barely contained.

For a moment, they only stare at each other in awe, eyes bright and trembling hands, and Romelle fears Allura will turn around and leave her there— perhaps it’s what she deserves. But instead, Allura leaps three steps and throws herself into her arms.

“I’m s-so sorry! Romelle! I’m so sorry!”

“No, Lu, don’t cry,” says Romelle while crying herself like the hypocrite she is, burying her face in Allura’s shoulder, feeling her soft hair between her hands as she holds her with all her strength. “I’m the one who’s sorry. Sorry for lying, sorry for— for not doing anything, for failing you…”

But Allura shakes her head, not caring for her self-pity.

“It was you. I could never stop looking for it because it was _you_. I knew it was…” She separates from Romelle just enough so their noses almost touch, their wet eyes meeting without the veil of lies between them. “I knew I could never let go of the thing I’ve loved most in my life.”

And, surprisingly, she softly brushes her lips with Romelle’s, as if she is asking for permission even though she already did. Romelle lets her, basking in the shivers that run down her body, still unable to believe this chance that life is giving her. But she’ll work on it, she thinks while surrounding Allura’s waist with her hands and kissing her like her younger self shamelessly imagined many times before. Not like she’ll ever confess that. It’s been enough confessions for one night… 

And they’ll have a lot of time from now on, she realizes, stunned before the prospect, holding Allura tighter just in case she wakes up at any moment in her ratty bed. When that doesn’t happen, a dumb smile spreads on her face, and she asks, just to hear the sound of it: 

“Should I ask the cards what can I do to have my girl forgive me?” 

“They say it’s all forgiven,” says Allura, smiling again. Romelle smirks.

“You didn’t read them at all.”

“But I’m the girl, and I say so.” Allura’s lashes are pearled with her previous tears, and she looks like a dream in the dim light of the street, as she says in an endeared tone: “As long as you stay with me.”

And Romelle thinks, destiny seems to have a dark sense of humor, with its turns and twists, but at least it keeps its promises and for that? She is and will always be grateful.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! Special thanks to my dear [Ivory](https://its-all-aces.tumblr.com/) for her knowledge of cards and for being so supportive and patient with me ;_;. Please let me know what you think, and don't forget to follow viraseii's [Tumblr](https://viraseii.tumblr.com/), [Twitter](https://twitter.com/viraseii/), and [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/viraseii/)! You can also find me on [Tumblr](https://silverineontherun.tumblr.com) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/silverineon).
> 
> Thanks a lot for reading!


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